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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904431">Sink Your Teeth In</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughterWrites/pseuds/LaughterWrites'>LaughterWrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, M/M, humans are humans (mostly), second person - Dave's POV, trolls are creatures (again mostly)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:28:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughterWrites/pseuds/LaughterWrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He dies the same way he was born. Screaming, soaking wet, and confused. </p><p>He is born into a new life. Still screaming, still soaked, still confused.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, John Egbert/Dave Strider, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sink Your Teeth In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today is December 3, 1849. It's about lunchtime, but you're not so worried about what to eat. </p><p>You're drowning. Sink or swim. </p><p>It's the boat's fault, really. Blame your dear brother for only being able to afford a cheap ship. You expected to die from hunger in Ireland, like your parents. Instead, salty water fills your lungs and your stomach as you wave your arms uselessly above your head.</p><p>The water is so cold, and you feel frozen to your bones. You try your best to shout for help over the salty spray. </p><p>No one helps.</p><p>No one can help.</p><p>You can't see anyone. Your brothers were right next to you right before you were plunged into the unforgiving ocean. Where are they? </p><p>"Dirk! Dirk, can you hear me? Ambrose! Please-"</p><p>Everything is blue, the sky and the water blur together as you're pulled under, over and over. Everything is blue until something is black.</p><p>You grab it. It's splintered and wet but solid, more solid than anything else. </p><p>You pull it towards you as the waves pull it away, dragging you and the little raft. Eventually you hang yourself limply over it. </p><p>You're safe. You're okay. Your eyes sting, your lungs sting. You keep trying to scream. You can't feel your legs. </p><p>Something dark and heavy is flung through the air and hits you and your little raft. You hit the water again. You black out. </p><p>Your name is Dave Strider, and you just died. You left the world the same way you came in, Screaming, confused, and soaking wet. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Come on. Wake up, stupid. Wake up. You're not dead anymore, wake up!" </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It's December 3rd, 1849. You don't know what time it is. You don't remember your name. You're soaked, but you don't feel cold. Your pants stick to your body, but your shirt has been cut open. Your eyelids seem glued shut. You don't open them. Your arm feels leaden as you reach up to your own chest and splay your fingers over your ribcage. Something on your chest stings. Nothing else hurts, just stinging in your chest.</p><p>"Did..." You start to say. Your voice is scratchy, like you swallowed a barrel full of sand. "Did my heart get stolen..." </p><p>Your head is fuzzy. What happened to your heart? You can't feel it. </p><p>Someone laughs. "You're kinda dull in the head, aren't you! The thing's still in there, won't help you much though, dull boy!" </p><p>"All work and no play..." you singsong. You pry your eyes open. "I don't know you," you say to the boy above you. He's sitting backwards in a too-small chair. He has dark eye bags under grey eyes that seem to bore through you. His hair is messy, but his face is clean. He's not European, but you don't know enough about people outside of Europe to guess where he's from. He looks at you with half-lidded eyes. </p><p>"You gotta name?" The boy says, his face impassive. </p><p>You prop yourself up from the floor. You panic when realize that the room you're in is softly rocking back and forth, like the cabin of the ship you were on. You were on a ship? Memories are resurfacing slowly. You try to remember your name. </p><p>The boy nudges you with his foot. "What's your <em>name,</em> stupid."</p><p>"I don't know," you say. "Where are we?" </p><p>"Boat," the boy says. "My boat." </p><p>You nod like that explains everything. You move to sit cross-legged, facing him. "Did you... save me?" </p><p>The boy shrugs. "What would... what happens when someone gets 'saved'?" he asks slowly. </p><p>You look up a bit. "You saved me if you..." you can't seem to find the right words. "If you stopped me from dying, I think." </p><p>The boy cracks a smile. "Then, no, I did not save you. Do you remember your name yet?" </p><p>You shrug. "My brain feels like pudding. Can i have something to drink?" </p><p>He sighs and stands up. "Stay where you are. I'll only be a minute." He pats you on the head, which feels condescending, but you don't say anything. He leaves the room through the only door. You don't get to peek into the next room, the door closes too fast. </p><p>As soon as he leaves a thought occurs to you. <em>My clothes are wet. Does this weird boy want me to catch a cold or something?</em>  You peel off your torn up shirt, and leave it on the floor, but stop short at your trousers. <em>Better leave those on. Polite company doesn't strip the moment he's left alone. </em>You decide that you are polite company. The pants stay on. Your hand finds your chest again, where it stings. A pair of small, circular bruises marr the skin on the left side of your chest. You poke at them but the pain doesn't flare. They just hurt, a constant sting. You move your hand over your heart. </p><p>Nothing. Not a beat to be felt. </p><p>You know you should be worried, usually a heartbeat is important, you think. You're not worried. Mostly you just hope the boy comes back soon. You're very thirsty. </p><p>You survey the room. One side has a long bench nailed to the wall with a table in front of it. You notice that the table is screwed to the floor. Opposite the door there is a set of long dark curtains with a small latched cabinet on either side. A few small wooden chairs sit around the room, the only things that aren't latched or nailed down. Even the bottoms of the curtains are nailed to the wall. There is no obvious light source in the room, yet you can see clearly.</p><p>From the other room, an animal makes a strangled cry, which is promptly cut short. You scramble to your feet and back against the wall with the curtain. You grab at the thick fabric, hoping to pry loose a nail. The boy's words come back to you suddenly. <em>No, I did not save you.</em></p><p>For the first time since you woke up, you feel afraid. Truly afraid. Everything comes rushing back in a surge of panic. </p><p>Your brothers. The boat. The wreck. The water. It all comes back. Your name is Dave Strider. Your name is Dave. Your name is Dave, and you're in a boat with one door, and on the other side of the door is a boy who you do not know who probably- almost certainly just <em>killed something. </em>Your name is Dave and your brothers are dead and your parents are dead and for fuck's sake half of Ireland is dead, and here you sit, waiting for a boy to come and kill you too. </p><p>Your internal monologue screeches to a halt as the boy walks back in, holding a small clay jar. Your heart should be racing. Why isn't your heart racing. The boy walks over to you, letting the door slam. He looks as uncaring as he did before. His half lidded grey eyes seem to bore through you as he holds up the jar. "Drink it." </p><p>Without your permission you let go of the curtain and your arm reaches up to take the jar from him and raise it to your lips. You try to force your mouth to stay closed or force your arm away, but your body moves like a puppet on strings, and the warm liquid flows slowly down your throat. Immediately the gritty, sandy feeling is gone, and the thirst is relieved slightly. Finally in control again, you hold the cup with both hands and drink greedily. You're trying to lick the last bits out of the jar when you feel the jar being pulled away from you and snap back to your senses, letting go of the jar and backing up against the curtain again. </p><p>The boy seems unfazed by your sudden terror. "Remember your name yet?" </p><p>"Let me go." </p><p>"You're so stupid. We're in the middle of the ocean, dull boy!" He says, moving to the side of you to take a cloth from the latched cabinet and wiping the jar with it. "Leave if you want, but you'll be right back to where I pulled you from." </p><p>"Don't kill me." </p><p>"Didn't plan on it, 'cept you do seem a bit too stupid to be all that helpful." He puts the cloth and the jar in the cabinet and walks back over to you. He raps his knuckles against your head. "Ah. As I suspected. Hollow as a rotten gourd." He seems to try to grin, but it just looks like he's baring his teeth. You loosen your grip on the curtains. </p><p>'What... happened? I think.... I think I might be dead." </p><p>"Yeah, you cheated death, dearest dull boy. The feeling doesn't wear off. What's your name." </p><p>"Dave," you say, as if you're testing the sounds out for the first time. "What's... have you told me your name?" </p><p>The boy pauses, looking up at you. For the first time you realize he's shorter than you, his nose about at your chin level. "I don't remember. It's been a long time since I've been asked. Last name I remember being called was a mean nickname my brother gave me." He smiles slightly, like he's remembering something pleasant. "He would call me <em>Karakat</em>. In your language I think it means... refuse, or something you want to get rid of." </p><p>"Ah." you say, unsure of how to respond. "Karkat." </p><p>He looks like he's about to correct you but stops himself. </p><p>You continue. "What happened." </p><p>He shrugs, and moves to sit in a chair. You grab one of the other chairs that are scattered around, and sit opposite him. Reminds you of school. He looks down at his hands and then up at you. "You are dead." </p><p>He says this like he expects you to be in great shock. You, at this point, have figured out that the devil's work is afoot. No surprise in being dead. </p><p>He pauses, then continues when you don't react. "So am I. I died a handful of centuries ago. I wish I could remember how long, but lady time is a bitch, when the calendar changes too much, it gets harder and harder to know how long you’ve been somewhere. We... when we died, we stop being human. This morning you were a human, and now you’re not. I don’t know what we are. I know that I can reverse death, as my death was reversed. You are the first person I have brought back successfully. When I was brought back, the one who did this to me did not stay to see me revive. I doubt the dolt meant to do it.”</p><p class="p1">You nod. “You did mean to save me?”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t stop you from dying, but I did mean to bring you back.” Karkat says, his eyes trained on his hands. “I saw you, dead or nearly dead, floating in the ocean. And you look.... you’re young. That’s honestly what it is. In all my decades, I have never met one of us who appears as young as me.”</p><p class="p1">“Why did you save me,” You say, your anger flaring up, “when there were others, younger than me. My brothers probably drowned, and so did all the others on the boat. Children and mothers and even other young men, my age, our age. Why me?”</p><p class="p1">Karkat knits his brow. “You.... you were the first one where I could...” he takes a deep breath and looks up, meeting Dave’s eyes. “You were the first one whose whole body I could find.”</p><p class="p1">You are stunned silent.</p><p class="p1">Karkat continues. “I saved you because I thought I could, and, what a surprise! I did it. The waste of space succeeded for once. And now... now I have company, and you have eternity. We are monsters now, Dave. The two of us against the world.”</p><p class="p1">“</p><p class="p1">December 3rd, 2020</p><p class="p1">11:42 am</p><p class="p1">“Happy undead day to you,” Karkat sings, “Happy undead day to you. I would-n’t have saved you, if I on-ly knew!”</p><p class="p1">You roll your eyes and chuckle. You're sprawled out on the couch in the apartment the two of you share. “Oh, just drive a stake through my heart already, my Knight! Save me from the horrible agony of spending eternity with you!”</p><p class="p1">Karkat ruffles your hair. “Gladly. Anything to rid me of your grating voice.”</p><p class="p1">“Have any plans for my special day?” You ask, a half-smile on your face as you reach up, making grabby hands.</p><p class="p1">Karkat takes one of your hands and kneels on the floor next to you. “Hm.... maybe a couple of plans. How does this sound: we spend today playing whatever crappy video games you want, and I will even -get this- let you win one whole round.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh! How generous!”</p><p class="p1">“Shut up, ungrateful fuck. You get to win one round because it’s your undead day. Then, when it gets dark,”</p><p class="p1">“This is the part I like!” you interrupt with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, earning you a whack on the head.</p><p class="p1">“You horny motherfucker. No. None of that. We will go and look at the Christmas lights that the rich neighborhoods have put up. One of those houses is having a celebration tonight...”</p><p class="p1">You grin, “What kind of celebration? Wine glasses and polite toasts or-“</p><p class="p1">“College-age heir to a company has the family house for a weekend while his way-too-fuckin-trusting dad is on vacation.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh so we’re getting DRUNK-drunk tonight. Glad the taste of cheap booze and cheaper beer doesn't make its way to the bloodstream. Everyone there would taste like <em>eau de broke.</em> Instead we're snacking on fine cuisine. Gettin' hungry just thinking about it... ohoho... <em>Bon appetit? </em>More like <em>Bon appe-</em><em>bourgeoisie</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“That doesn’t make any sense”</p><p class="p1">“You don’t make any sense.”</p><p class="p1">"</p><p class="p1">December 3rd, 2020</p><p class="p1">8:47 PM</p><p class="p1">The horseless carriage is the second best thing that humans have invented, second only to the camera-phone (a PHONE that can take PHOTOS! who thinks of this stuff?). You still remember the old Ford that Karkat bought you when you turned 100.</p><p class="p1">"You've been conscious for a century." he told you. "Time to get the hell out of my house once in a while." </p><p class="p1">He quickly ran down all the information that the car dealer told him, and you were off, driving your first car. You never technically got a real drivers license, even when you got a new car. (and another, and another. They aren't really made to last as long as you will.) Karkat's friend Sol makes most of your papers, no need to take some time consuming test. So, it's really no surprise that you suck at driving. Karkat sucks worse. So, you drive to the nice neighborhood, with Karkat barking directions. He always says them a moment too late and shouts at you when you fail to make a turn. You've asked if you can use Siri for directions but he never wants to. </p><p class="p1">"A machine telling me where to go is the beginning of the end," he always says.</p><p class="p1">You don't mention that the maps he has are printed from his computer. </p><p class="p1">You refrain from mentioning a lot of things to Karkat. He has a temper. You would think that a couple centuries of life would make a dude chill, but not Karkat. He’s easy to rile up when you get bored, but that’s about the only benefit.</p><p class="p1">Sometimes you think that spending eternity with Karkat is a lot like having a very loud, very stressed internal monologue. The dude cannot shut up. Apparently, before he died, he was quiet. Tried real hard not to be noticed by anyone, ever. As soon as he realized that nobody could kill him to shut him up? The dude started shouting and never stopped.</p><p class="p1">He continues to this day.</p><p class="p1">“Dave I swear to the Gods who abandoned us if you miss this-“</p><p class="p1">You miss the turn.</p><p>"Kan is gonna kill us, we're gonna be so fucking late," Karkat grumbles, "Make a U-turn, we have to go back, maybe this time you can make the gods-damned turn." </p><p>"Kanaya is coming? Is Rose coming with her?" You ask, ignoring the other drivers' honking as you make a not-at-all-legal U-turn. </p><p>Karkat nods, staring down the road like the street he's looking for is going to jump out and shoot him. "Rose is the reason we're even going. She goes to school with the host. Apparently the kid is an asshole." </p><p>"Rose called the kid-" </p><p>"Dave TURN now-" </p><p>"I am! Jesus fuck-" </p><p>You make the turn. You get flipped off by another driver but its fine. At first glance, you look like a highschooler first learning to drive. The pros of getting turned as a starved 19 year old? You look like a stupid kid forever. </p><p>"Anyway." you continue, "I can't believe dear, sweet Rosie called him an asshole."</p><p>"I was paraphrasing, dumb fuck. She said that he seems to have an inflated ego." </p><p>Rose is the great-great-great-great(etc) granddaughter of your brother Dirk, who managed to survive the wreck and get picked up by actual humans. Lucky bastard. Got a wife, had some kids, cheated on his wife with a man, repented, did it again, died at 48, hung for stealing a horse. The dude lived a good life. You wish he didn't spend so much of it mourning you. </p><p>Rose is actually a lot like Dirk, which is cool in a funny way. She's smart and witty, probably too much for her own good. She's blunt and has a tendency to get in over her head. Rose knows that you're her great^7 uncle. Her relationship with the supernatural is... intimate.</p><p>"Is Kanaya going to be feeding at this party?" you ask, mostly just making conversation. Driving down the street is slow going, there are a lot of cars there looking at the rich people's decorations. The decorations are nice, but the lights hurt your eyes.  </p><p>Karkat shakes his head. "Nah. She's not into getting boozeblood drunk. She needs fine wines and champagne. Elitist, you can't even fuckin' taste the booze. I bet she's gonna feed on Rose. What a freak. Dating her meal. Gross." </p><p>You park the car on the curb. "Didn't you mess around with a human a few years ago? Wasn't she a J name?" </p><p>He shrugs. "That's how I know it's gross, stupid." </p><p>You get out of the car and walk around to the other side to open the door for Karkat. You started opening his door for him as a joke, making fun of him for being all high and mighty. It backfired, and now you feel like you have to open the door every time. </p><p>The two of you walk down the street, towards the loud music. Every time you pass a house, Karkat comments on their decor. He is... vocal about his opinions, and they're rarely positive. You don't mind much, after all, you tend to agree. </p><p>You see Karkat scrunch up his nose when you arrive at the party. Karkat got all his senses heightened threefold when he was turned. It's not superpower-level like some other vampires you know, but he can still smell a hell of a lot better than you can. </p><p>"Smells like ass. I changed my mind, this was a bad idea. It's all vomit, alcohol, and B.O. here. Nasty." Karkat starts to turn around and walk back to the car, but you grab his arm. </p><p>"Dude. Come on. It's my Undead Day. Let me get a bit drunk before we go home. At least, lets meet up with Kan and Rose, I haven't seen either of them in a while." </p><p>He sighs and shrugs your hand off his arm. "Fine. For your Undead Day." </p><p>You smile slightly and the two of you walk up to the door. Even as Karkat grumbles at you, you can see his fangs starting to slip out, he's hungry, too. </p><p>When you walk in, you immediately realize that your Best Inventions list is missing one important thing: sunglasses. Most parties you've been to are mostly dark, but at this one every light in the damned house is turned on. All of Karkat's senses got a slight bump up, but for you? It's all in the eyes. Karkat can see fairly well in the dark (saving the two of you hundreds on electric) but your eyes take in way too much light. This place <em>hurts. </em>You nudge Karkat with your elbow. "Hey, I'm gonna find a bathroom or something. Too bright in here." </p><p>Karkat nods, barely looking at you. His eyes are trained on a human girl across the room. You vaguely recognize her, long dark hair down her back, huge glasses, and dark skin covered in freckles. You roll your eyes and walk away from him, leaving him to oogle the girl. If he gets punched for being a creep it's a him problem. You walk through the entry room and find yourself in a similarly packed living room. </p><p>"Fuckin' rich people houses." you grumble when you find a long hallway, just as bright as the rest of the house. You push open a few doors. An office, a room for of clown figurines, a personal gym, a library. "These books live more comfortably than me." you mutter to yourself. "Moby Dick is here munching on caviar and sitting back on a chaise lounge. Each book has its own personal butler to carefully massage its pages. Christ." </p><p>Finally, you open a door that looks like a kid's bedroom. The lights are off. You shut the door behind you and lean against the wall. You let your eyes close. <em>I'll just stay here until my eyes adjust. </em>You decide to sit, sliding down to the floor. </p><p>The darkness is nice. You haven't slept much since you died, vamps don't really need it. You're just resting. </p><p>You're startled awake by the light flicking on. </p><p>"Wha! What the fuck! Can't a dude chill in the dark?!" </p><p>A young man stands in the bedroom. His hand is still on the light switch, and he's grinning. "Sorry! I didn't think anyone would be in here! Were you sleeping?" </p><p>"Was sleeping, until you barged in here and flipped the switch. What a wake up call, bro. Ugh." Your eyes adjust to the light pretty quickly. Maybe the sleep helped. "What time is it?" </p><p>The kid pulls out his phone. "Uh... It's like 9:30ish. PM, obviously." </p><p>Good, you were only out for 20 minutes, tops. Now you just need a snack. You eye the boy in front of you, who is struggling to fit his phone back in his pocket. He's a bit shorter than you, but not by much. He has square, wire-rimmed glasses, khaki shorts, and a Ghostbusters shirt. He has a round face, and shiny blue braces. He's cute, but in a dorky way. You crack a wry grin. "I'm Dave. Who're you?" </p><p>The boy, who just fit his phone in his pocket, startles a bit when you address him. "I'm uh. I'm... <em>Nick...</em>" he pauses for a moment. "No I'm not, that's a lie, I don't know why I said that. I'm John." </p><p>You can't help it, you start to laugh. "John, dude, what kinda guy lies about his own name?" </p><p>John shrugs, grinning at you. "I dunno. I wanted to sound cool, I guess." He sits on the floor, facing you. "Didn't work, I'm too bad a liar to have a cool name. Thought my sick pranking skills would help me out. Why aren't you out at the party with everyone else? Girlfriend drag you along?" </p><p>You chuckle, "If I had a girlfriend, you really think i'd be sleeping by myself in here? Nah dude, I'd be getting it on in that twin bed. My uh... my friend... or something... it's complicated, brought me along, said my friend Rose would be here. I passed out before I saw her." </p><p>John laughs at that, a loud and full laugh, that almost sends him onto his back. "You showed up drunk, didn't you? or hung over? Hah! Rose has been here for ages, she's my friend! She's like goth or something, right? She likes to act like she's so scary." he quiets down and glances at the door, like he expects someone to barge in. "If you ask me, her girlfriend is the scary one. She's so pretty but in such a scary way, like no person should be allowed to be that pretty, ya know?" </p><p>You do know. Karkat paints eye bags under his eyes and tousles his hair to diminish the effect, and your dark lenses help, but vampires are practically built to lure people. Too pretty. All the vamps you've met, besides Kan, do something to look less unnatural. She amps up the effect, tries to look as alluring as possible, for the hell of it. "Yeah," you say, "She looks like she belongs in a painting. She's not so scary, though." </p><p>"Easy for you to say, Mr. Sunglasses Indoors! Intimidating people don't intimidate each other. I think." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m not a homestuck pls don’t write a callout for me-</p></blockquote></div></div>
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